


my heart has finished wondering just for who it's gonna break

by bellawritess



Series: when the light hits the room [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Idk what to say, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Relationship Stuff, Romance, but not perfect, cameo mention of alex because i'm me, ive never written something like this i have no idea how to tag it, mostly cute with a little bit of serious, uhhhh, well the whole fic IS the happy ending so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: these days are pretty hard to believe.“Mm,” Ashon hums. “I’ve missed waking up like this.”Michael exhales and slumps back into Ashton’s bare chest, hugging Ashton’s arm and twisting his head to smile at him. “Me too.”
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Series: when the light hits the room [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014027
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	my heart has finished wondering just for who it's gonna break

**Author's Note:**

> okay!! we've reached the end. this is part four and final of the when the light hits the room series so if you got this far then congratulations you are rewarded with a happy ending. this last chapter/installment/whatever is based on hard to believe, and the title is also from there
> 
> usual infinite thanks to [sam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellingatbabylon) for being just. a treasure. an amazing friend. a loyal fic reader. sam i love you so much have i mentioned

Michael wakes up at peace.

It’s so foreign that he seizes up, certain he must be dreaming; his eyes fly open, and the arm around his waist tightens. Michael glances down, sees tattoos he could probably draw in his sleep, moon phases in black and red disappearing into the curve of the arm holding Michael.

 _Ashton,_ he thinks, and it settles like a safety blanket over his shoulders.

“Mm,” Ashon hums. “I’ve missed waking up like this.”

Michael exhales and slumps back into Ashton’s bare chest, hugging Ashton’s arm and twisting his head to smile at him. “Me too.”

It’s like Michael’s relearning everything. There’s all this Ashton stuff in his memory, but it’s weeks old, and now Michael gets to clear it out and update it; brand new pictures of Ashton’s lazy smile in the morning, cataloguing the feeling of Ashton’s skin warm against Michael’s, the brush of Ashton’s lips against Michael’s shoulder, the total security that still accompanies lying in Ashton’s arms.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get to have you like this again,” Ashton murmurs, trailing kisses up Michael’s arm and his neck. “God, I love you.”

Michael laughs lightly and tilts his head down to capture Ashton’s lips on his. Ashton hugs him closer; he kisses Michael with his whole body, pressed together at every point, so close and so warm that Michael could melt under his touch. He probably will, probably has. Every touch blazes hot, and every kiss melts Michael down, but it rebuilds him better every time, and Michael would rebuild himself a hundred times a day for Ashton.

Ashton pulls away and leans back against the pillows, so Michael graciously turns over onto his other side, propping himself up on his elbows. The light from the window lands on Ashton like it’s been searching for a worthy place to settle. It covers his face, nestling perfectly over his side of the bed. Michael’s face breaks into a smile at the thought. It’s Ashton’s side of the bed again, finally — not barren, not filled with a stranger, or Harry, or Calum, but Ashton, a king come to reclaim his throne. “You’re so fucking pretty,” Michael says reverently. Ashton blushes and laughs and shakes his head. “You are. It’s a good thing you never have to look at yourself or you’d never get anything done. It’s incredibly distracting.”

“I have to look at you,” Ashton counters, tilting Michael’s chin with two fingers. “You think that’s any better?”

This time Michael blushes. “I can’t believe you love me,” he says softly. “Still. At all. I can’t believe you’re here.”

Maybe that’s the wrong thing to say, he thinks, as guilt crawls over Ashton’s face. “I can’t believe I left,” he says. “I can’t believe you let me come back. Fuck, I know I don’t deserve you.”

“No, stop it,” Michael says. “Don’t say that. Permanent ban on saying that. Don’t be serious before we’ve even had breakfast.” He shuffles closer and presses a kiss to Ashton’s lips, tucking it away in his memory. “I love you so much.”

“I love _you_ so much,” Ashton says, stealing another kiss. “Okay. Let me make breakfast, then, if I can’t be serious until we eat.”

“I don’t actually eat breakfast,” Michael says. “So we can never be serious, unfortunately.”

Ashton chuckles and tugs a hand through Michael’s hair. “We’ll have to be serious eventually. But not this morning, if you don’t want.”

Michael smiles indulgently. “Okay. Then I accept your generous offer to make breakfast. Consider it emotional reparations. I’m _joking,_ by the way.”

This time Ashton laughs, properly. “Truth in jest,” he teases, then kisses Michael once more, slow and sweet. Michael closes his eyes. It’s so easy, so…normal, kissing Ashton in the morning, making jokes — waking up with Ashton, the light hitting him like the third in a three-part harmony, the light and Ashton and Michael all locking into place. Some things never change, and Michael will never stop feeling like his bedroom is just a stage, Ashton the leading man, and the sunlight in the morning a spotlight. If that makes Michael the audience, so much the better; he’s always loved to watch Ashton, and he could do it for hours and never grow tired.

When Ashton breaks the kiss, he smiles immediately. “Okay,” he says. “I’m really getting up.”

“Okay,” Michael says, gazing dopily at Ashton as he gets up. “You can take one of my shirts, if you want.”

Ashton ruffles his hair. “Thanks. Is the Ramones one in here still?”

Michael nods. He doesn’t say _I haven’t touched it since you left, not even to wash it._ They’re not being serious before breakfast. “On the bottom, probably.”

Ashton rummages around in Michael’s t-shirt drawer until he finds the Ramones shirt, then pulls it on. Most of Michael’s clothes don’t quite fit Ashton, but by some miracle this shirt does, and Ashton looks so good in it that Michael is tempted to say _fuck breakfast, come back to bed, I can think of a better way to spend the next four hours._

But Ashton is already blowing a kiss to Michael and disappearing out of Michael’s bedroom door on his way to the kitchen, so Michael sighs contentedly and gets out of bed himself, stepping into joggers and tugging one of his own t-shirts over his head as he treks into the kitchen.

Ashton is already situated at the stove, pulling out all the necessary tools and ingredients for scrambled eggs as the pan heats up. “So what does your Monday look like?” he asks as Michael as Michael hoists himself onto the counter. One of the best things about adult life is getting to sit on his own counter. It’s better with a boyfriend between his knees, but Ashton is currently occupied making breakfast, so Michael can be patient.

“Haven’t decided,” he says. “Probably involves annoying Luke into playing Final Fantasy with me. And I have a shift at the guitar store later.”

Ashton cracks the eggs into a cup. “You’re still working there?”

Michael nods. It’s weird, small talk with Ashton, but Michael is determined to get past it. They have a lot to catch up on, but they also have a strong foundation. “I think they’re going to start giving lessons again, so hopefully I can do that, too. I mean, if they decide I’m, like, qualified to teach children to play guitar.”

“You are,” Ashton says decisively. He whisks the eggs and pours them into the pan, and they sizzle in satisfying unison. “Plus you’re great with children. And super sexy, so everyone will want to be your student. They’ll all fancy you.”

“Oh, good,” Michael says drily. “Precisely what I want. Twelve-year-olds fancying me.”

Ashton laughs. “Come on, you fancied your music tutor in year eight, you told me.”

“That’s so completely different!”

“It’s exactly the same! If you were my guitar teacher I’d be in love with you before the lesson even started,” Ashton says, grinning. “Head over heels.”

Michael feels a pang, and it takes a moment for him to realize that what he’s feeling is bittersweet; love but also loss, warring in his head and heart. As promised, he doesn’t laugh, but he suddenly wishes he could. “Yeah,” he says faintly. “Right.”

Ashton, forever attuned to Michael, glances at him and frowns. “What?”

Michael swallows and shakes his head. “Nothing. I — nothing.” He sighs. He can’t say it’s nothing when it’s not, but he doesn’t want to be serious about this when it feels so unsteady. Still. Communication, cornerstone to a healthy relationship, et cetera. “I found the note you left on your contact in my phone.” Ashton tilts his head, confused. “In the notes it said _head over heels for Michael Clifford._ I didn’t put it there, so I figure you must have, but I had never seen it before.”

Quietly, Ashton says, “Oh.” He turns back to the pan and moves the eggs around. “When did you find that?”

“A couple weeks ago.” Michael digs his teeth into his bottom lip until it stings. “It wasn’t, um, a good night for me.”

“Oh,” Ashton says again.

“I’m not trying to guilt you,” Michael says. “I just feel like…transparency is better than not. With us.”

“Yeah, no, I agree,” Ashton says, and he takes a deep breath and turns his whole body towards Michael. “I’m sorry you found that when you did. For whatever it’s worth, I meant it, and I mean it, and if you didn’t know it then I hope you know it now.” With one step, Ashton closes the gap between them, and he wraps his arms around Michael’s neck.

“I do,” Michael says weakly, because he does. There’s absolutely no denying it. Ashton’s love is palpable, and Michael can only hope that Ashton feels it from Michael too. He gives a little laugh. “Bad try with not being serious.”

“Yeah, well, we did our best.” Ashton kisses Michael’s nose, then leaves one lingering on his lips before returning to the scrambled eggs. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be the first person Alex asks to teach lessons, because you’re a fantastic guitarist and incredibly charismatic and objectively their sexiest employee, and that is an unbiased opinion.”

Michael shouldn’t be tripped up that Ashton remembers the name of Michael’s boss — Ashton’s mind is like a steel fucking trap, he’ll remember shit that nobody will ever need to know again — but it still draws him up short for a moment, and just as quickly as the ache had come, it vanishes again. Replacing it is that same sense of peace with which Michael had woken up, a soothing ease in his chest.

“I hope so,” he says. He inhales sharply. “I fucking love you, you know. I’m never going to be tired of telling you.” It’s still hard to believe that Ashton is here, _here_ , back in Michael’s life, but then Ashton looks over at him, a shy smile on his face that Michael knows like the back of his hand.

“I’m never going to be tired of hearing it,” he says. “So I guess that works out well for us.”

And just like that, somehow, everything is exactly right, head and heart perfectly in tune, and there’s nothing else but Ashton. Covered in the rays of the morning sun or washed out by the fluorescent kitchen lights or hidden under shitty pub lighting or wearing Michael’s t-shirt or nothing at all or eating cold pizza or making scrambled eggs — it’s all Ashton, everything, and Michael has forever and then some to convince himself that it’s real, that this Ashton is his again, that he is Ashton’s.

Eventually he’ll get there.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for sticking with this if you did !!! means a lot <3 anyway as ever, i am on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) and i am always happy to chat so! that's all from me. i think maybe i'll go to sleep now? who knows. at any rate lots of love xoxoxo bye


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